Secret Santa 2019: Family Fun
by ScatterGraph
Summary: When Jeff invokes a new house rule for Christmas, the boys get creative in their efforts to find a way around it. Pre-IR (mostly), Christmas fluff.
1. Prologue

**A/N:**

**Originally written for 2019 TAG Secret Santa using the prompt: Family Fun. **

**Young(ish) Tracy's, pre-IR, Christmas fluff.**

**Fanfic only; I don't own or claim any rights to Thunderbirds.**

**Hope you like it**

Prologue

When the boys were little, Christmas had been all about family fun. Then later, after Lucy's death, things had begun to lose their way a little. There was one really awful Christmas none of them liked to remember, much less talk about. Then there were a couple of mediocre ones where more effort was put in to try and bring things back to normality a little bit, but something just still wasn't quite right. Aside from the obvious absence of their mother, of course.

After that, it had all gotten very commercialised – presents that grew with size, quantity and cost every year; shows and events in the calendar that had to be attended; professional engagements that couldn't be missed. In fact, Jeff could barely remember even seeing his boys last Christmas. Maybe for an hour or so as they worked their way through the mountains of presents they neither needed nor really wanted (Jeff and Grandma with their own piles also), but even that was a bit of a hazy blur. Had they even had dinner that day? He really couldn't recall it if they had. After the present opening, they had all pretty much gone their own separate ways; off to explore their new things, watch TV, visit friends etc. Thinking back now it was all a bit sad really, though at the time it had seemed like none of them had even noticed. Maybe that was how they had wound-up where they were today - _Christmas Eve_ \- with this year's absolute and utter debacle. Later to become known as: 'The day that saved the Tracy Christmas.'


	2. Chapter 1

It had all started three weeks before Christmas. So determined Jeff was to change things for the better this year that he had flat out refused to allow his boys access to anything other than $100 maximum of their allowance savings. Now that might seem like a lot, but in a family of five brothers, one Dad and a Grandma, that $100 had to be split across multiple presents and that was before you even factored in buying for friends and in Scott and Virgil's case, _girlfriends _too_._ In a world where expensive jewellery and the latest technology were the norm for present buying and you were also expected to get people more than one thing each, that $100 to cover it all just wasn't going to cut it. There had been arguments bordering on rows, whining, stomping, much moaning and sulking, but in the end, the boys had relented to their fates and Jeff was certain that despite the dark mood in the household, he had done the right thing.

The next day was a Saturday and Jeff slipped into his Christmas jumper and made his way down the stairs to breakfast, a smile on his face as he approached the kitchen as he fondly thought of the chaos that would surely meet him on the other side of the door.

"Morning Boys - …" he beamed in his cheeriest voice, determined to make up for the arguments of the previous night and get this year's 'family fun' Christmas off to a good start.

Silence came his answer as he looked around the empty room before him, smile dropping and confusion taking its place.

"If you're looking for the boys, you're a half-hour too late, son," Grandma supplied as she manoeuvred her way around the disappointed patriarch and over to the dishwasher, which appeared to be fully loaded with the remains of what looked like it would have been a pretty good breakfast.

"They left?"

"Sure did. Said something about needing to beat the crowds."

Jeff sighed. Sounds like his boys were still more interested in hitting the shops than spending the day with him after all. He had hoped that having had a chance to sleep on things they would all come around to his way of thinking. The older ones at least. They were mature enough to understand his reasoning, right? Boy, he hoped so. Three weeks of arguments and hostility were not on his agenda. Despite his good intentions, maybe he had just gone and made things worse.

"You can stop that," Grandma scolded without so much as a look at him as she loaded the last of the dishes into the washer and set it to begin.

"What?" Jeff replied.

"Blaming yourself. You did the right thing and they know it. They just haven't fully realised it yet."

"Hhm, well, fat lot of good it did me. Alone in an empty house while the boys are off gallivanting across town."

"Alone? What am I, something the cat dragged in?"

"Well… " Grown man or not, he couldn't possibly let an opportunity like that go to waste.

"DON'T you answer that, boy!" the old lady snapped at her son's menacing smile. "Now park your butt in that chair and get this down you."

Depositing her forlorn son at the kitchen table, she proceeded to plonk the biggest plate of pancakes, bacon, eggs, toast and everything else but the kitchen sink down in front of him, fresh from the warmer where it had been hiding.

"You made me breakfast?" Jeff asked, grateful but surprised.

"The boys did. Well, Virgil mostly. The others can't cook for toffee, but they meant well."

Jeff looked up at her, amazed.

"Something of a peace offering, I think. _Alone _in deed." The old woman muttered and rolled her eyes as she left the room, knowing the giant grin she would surely see returned to her son's face if she were to look back.

Maybe things were looking up after all. Though how his mother had the gall to comment on anyone else's cooking ability was beyond him. Lord knows Jeff never had the time to teach his boys those skills and with Grandma as their only remaining role model in that department, his poor boys never stood a chance.

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Over on the other side of town and after dropping a protesting seven-year-old Alan off at a friend's for the day, Virgil, John & Gordon all piled out of Scott's battered old fixer-upper sad excuse for a car and stalked up to the front doors of the local mall. Though they had made sure to get there early, an over-excited gathering of Christmas shoppers had already started to assemble outside ready for opening. They had a mission, sure, but it was looking more and more hopeless by the minute.

"Gordo, I want you to look me in the eye and promise me - no fingers crossed, toes crossed, _opposites day_, or anything else for that matter - that you are going to stay with John."

"Scotty, you worry too much."

"Gordon."

"Yeah, yeah, I know. Stick with John. Roger. I hear you. Now will you go already, time's a wasting you know. Also, you might wana' turn that frown upside down big brother, if the wind changes you'll be stuck like that forever you know."

It was wasn't for John's swift intervention as he wrenched a grinning Gordon behind him for protection, they may have been down one annoying little brother right there and then.

"Don't worry Scott, I got him. You guys go, we'll see you at home," John supplied, ever the voice of reason and responsibility.

Scott eyed Gordon suspiciously, not liking how casually his little brother had switched from cocky grin to angelic innocence from his place behind John.

"You're sure you're okay to get the bus home? I don't know how long this is going to take," Scott asked warily.

"We're fine. We've done it plenty of times before."

Scott still wasn't convinced he was doing the right thing. Being the eldest really sucked sometimes.

"Scott, they're opening up, come on," Virgil nudged.

"Yeah…ok. Just window shopping and then straight home, you got it? Like we agreed last night."

"We know. Just go. And Scott, good luck, yeah?" John added.

"Yeah. Okay, thanks."

With that, the older two made their way inside and off towards the mall's management suite, leaving John and Gordon watching on patiently until they were finally out of sight.

"Are we safe yet?"

"Dunno," John replied, "give it another minute. You know how Scott gets his Momma-Bear panties in a twist when he's in charge. He might double back."

Another minute ticked by.

"Now?" Gordon asked again.

"Okay, we're good. Meet you at the bus stop in a couple hours?"

"You got it."

"I mean it Gordon; you better be there. If you get us caught, we'll be stuck going along with _their_ plan and I for one am not happy with that."

"What, taking handouts from Scott and Virge while we're stuck at home like little kids? No thanks. I pay my own way."

"Good, then we have a deal. Where are you going anyway? You know there aren't any shops around here that will give jobs to an eleven-year-old. Exactly how do you plan on making any money?"

"You're only two years older than me. What's _your_ plan?"

"Never you mind."

"Right back at ya."

John stared at Gordon. Gordon stared at John. More seconds ticked by.

"Okay, fine! Whatever. Let's just do this." John sighed in exasperation as his once again cocky-grinning little brother high-tailed it off into the crowd.

"Laters Johnny!" He called back over his shoulder and the redhead couldn't help but laugh. Now all they had to do was stay hidden from the older two and all would be fine.

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Back in the Management Suite, two dejected brothers waited their turn in what was the mall's depressingly un-festive employment offices. If their Dad expected them to just sit back and do nothing after taking their allowances away, he had another thing coming. They had presents to buy and presents were expensive. Especially the designer boots Scott had been eyeing up for Lisa Tate and the new console he had been hoping to get for his younger brothers. Then there was the ridiculously expensive necklace Ellie Haskins had demanded from Virgil as 'proof that he loved her.' They had only been going out for a few weeks for flips sake and he sure as heck wasn't about to go actually throwing the 'L' word around anytime soon, so if this bought him some more time then all the better. Plus, there was the agreement that the boys would share any money they made with the younger three to cover their shopping too. Of course they had wanted to come along and get jobs of their own but both Scott and Virgil knew the mall would never allow it so when they had made their plans the night previous, this had seemed like the best solution no matter how much the younger ones disliked it. Only problem was, it was three weeks before Christmas and all the jobs were already taken. Well, _almost_ all.

"Hhm. Look, boys. I know you want to earn yourselves some extra Christmas money but there just isn't anything left. All the positions were filled weeks ago."

"Please, _Marcy_," Scott tried again, clocking the woman's name badge and ensuring he gave her his best sad smile and lost puppy dog stare. She was an older lady with a motherly vibe about her. Yes, it was shameless, but he could work with that. His own mother had gifted him dimples and he sure knew how to use them. "Virgil and I, well, we just want to be able to give our little brothers and Grandma the best Christmas we can," an arm around Virgil for emphasis, "please, we'll do anything. Whatever you have." A swift stamp on Virgil's foot below the counter to spur him into action.

"Yes, anything. Really. Please? Our Grandma, well she just loves Christmas and with Dad away at work so often…" It technically wasn't a lie.

The woman surveyed the sad scene in front of her.

"Why don't I just double check the system. Maybe something came in overnight."

After a couple minutes of typing, frowning, hhhmmm-ing and lip biting, Marcy was suddenly looking a lot more hopeful.

"Well it looks like you boys may be in luck after all. We happen to have two positions just opened up – one looks like a new demand and I think the other is to replace someone who has just quit. The jobs though, -"

"Well take them, if you'll have us that is? Like we said, we're desperate, we'll do anything," Scott cut her off before she could talk herself out of it. They really needed the money if they were ever going to stand a chance at getting the presents they needed this close to Christmas.

"Okay then boys. Let me call the managers down here. If they like you, I don't see why we couldn't get you started tomorrow. You'll just need to fill out the paperwork, then you're all good to go."

The smiles of relief that followed were genuine and enormous.

"Thank you so much. We really appreciate this."

"You're welcome sweetheart."

A few minutes later and the boys had been separated into two offices after the managers they had been waiting on had arrived. There had been an awkward moment beforehand where they were both eyed-up like prize poodles on show, rather concerningly as they had not been expecting this kind of scrutiny, before it had been decided that Scott would be best placed with Mr Thompson of Thompson's Sporting Goods and Virgil would go the other way with Mr Rafferty to work for his business, whatever that may be.

In Scott's office, all the paperwork had been completed and he was essentially good to go, or so he thought. It seemed that Mr. Thompson had a few questions for him first. Fully prepared to launch into a download of all his academic achievements and the experience he had gained during his recent Summer placement at Tracy Industries, he was somewhat taken aback when Mr. Thompson opened with "How's your dancing?"

"Excuse me, Sir?"

"Dancing? You're a sportsman, yes? School football or the like?"

"Well, yes Sir, but – "

"Then you can follow instructions and follow a play. You'll be fine. If not, well, I've no other option. Rest of my staff are all needed elsewhere - would take too long to train you up on the shop-floor now and we don't have anyone available to do it anyways."

"Excuse me for asking Sir, but then exactly what is it you need me to do?"

Scott's stomach dropped as Mr. Thompson hauled a box up onto the table and proceeded to empty out its contents on to the desk in front of him.

"New initiative from head office, only problem is nobody seems to want it. Wrong time of year, you see. Everyone's out buying Christmas presents and here we are trying to sell this stuff. Go figure. Fact is, profits are down this year. I don't find a way to sell this, I'm finished. There's fifty-seven schools in the catchment zone for this mall, what with all the bus-loads of out-of-state shoppers coming in this year. More if we can get sales up on the website too. What I need is a face to market them, and I think you're my man."

Scott would violently disagree, that was, if he hadn't so gallantly promised his little brothers he would provide them with the money they needed to buy their Christmas presents.

"But Sir, those are _Cheerleading_ uniforms. _Diamante_ cheerleading uniforms."

Mr. Thompson sighed.

"I know son, trust me. They're not exactly my cup of tea either, but Head Office have taken a real liking to these things so we gotta' move them. You'll be working with Helena – girl's been Cheering practically since she was born. She'll teach you all the moves you need, nothing major, just a few arm signals, lifts, that sort of thing. There's a daily showcase at the food-court and rest of the time you'll be in the shop window. Living manakins, they call it."

Scott's throat had gone dry. "Showcase…" he choked out, brain not having caught-up as far as the 'living window' section yet. "In that?" he looked down at the male, baby blue, _sparkly_ cheerleaders' uniform in front of him.

"Afraid so, Son. All I got at the moment I'm afraid. So, can I count on ya'?"

Scott wasn't so sure. His brothers had always teased that the term 'Dad dancing' had been coined just for their father and the apple certainly hadn't fallen far from the tree there. Plus if his brothers ever found out about this… Still, the look in Mr Thompson's eyes as he had told Scott of this being his last lifeline to save his store – how could he say no to that? The man clearly needed help and Scott needed a job, no matter how potentially disastrous and embarrassing.

"Yes Sir."

"Good lad, glad to have you on board."

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Over on the other side of the Mall, Virgil sat in an equally daunting and potentially embarrassing situation, only he was surrounded by fake snow and candy canes.

"You want me to be an Elf?"

"Attrition rate for Elves his high around here. Workers get bored of the noise, the long hours, blah, blah, blah. Line's halfway round the Mall every day and Santa needs his helpers. Turns out the real elves are kinda busy this time of year, up in that workshop and all, so I have to make do with the likes of you high-schoolers."

"You do realise I'm nearly six-feet tall, Sir? Not exactly the usual Elf image."

"Yeah, I know, not exactly ideal, but you'll do me well for lugging the heavy presents and decorations around and you're still shorter that that other guy you were with, so looks like it's your lucky day. Turn up tomorrow, 6am sharp. Lockers are there, changing room's there, wear _this_," he handed Virgil a very bright, very small and way-too-jingly package in the most hideous shade of green he had possibly ever seen, "and bring your Christmas cheer. Uniform might be a bit tight; last guy was a lot smaller than you but we don't have time to order in a new one so you'll have to make do. Don't worry, we'll hide you in the back; no-one will ever know. Oh, and make sure you get this permission slip signed. All minors have to have them this year. Mall policy. No signature, no job. Any problems?"

"Erm…well…"

But Virgil didn't get chance to finish that thought. Somewhere out front a small toddler had begun an epic meltdown, which Mr Rafferty had slunk off to, mumbling incoherently to himself and leaving Virgil staring forlornly at the package in his arms. Hide in the back he absolutely would, no question. If he weren't so desperate and hadn't promised the others he would help provide for them, not forgetting the Ellie issue on top of that, well…never mind that thought. It was what it was. Only one thing was certain in his mind – his brothers could never find out.

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It was lunch-time when the boys arrived home, all near-enough at the same time and with Scott and Virgil having collected Alan on the way through. When they had dropped him off the boy had seemed down-right depressed at being left-out, but now it was as if someone had flipped a switch and he was back to being his over excitable self, constantly asking where John was and why he hadn't come back with the other two. When questioned on why he was so keen to know, the littlest brother was giving nothing away but there was obviously something on his mind, that was for sure. The fact that Alan had apparently spent the morning helping his friend Jarod's Nan with her online shopping gave no explanation whatsoever as to his sudden change in mood but whatever it was that had caused it, the others were grateful. A sulking Alan was not something any of them particularly wanted to deal with right now. However, it wasn't Alan's sudden mood swing that had them asking the most questions. It was the stinking blur that shot past them as they made their way through the hallway and into the kitchen.

"Erg, what's that smell?" Alan asked, never one to sugar-coat things.

"I think it was Gordon." Scott answered as he peered up the stairs to where his younger brother had now disappeared.

"Are we completely sure it isn't Grandma's Christmas cookies?" Virgil asked as they all suddenly came to a wary halt in front of the kitchen door.

"What was that, Virgil?" Grandma asked gruffly, appearing in front of them as if summoned.

"Erm, nothing Grandma."

"Thought not. Now get in here before you catch cold. John, close that front door, you're letting all the heat out."

"Yes Grandma." John replied, narrowly avoiding the little flying blonde tornado that suddenly launched itself at him.

"John, you're back!" Alan squawked, "I need to talk to you!"

"Can it wait? There's something I need to do first."

"But John, I've got this idea and – "

"John, what's going on with Gordon and that smell? I thought you guys were supposed to be going shopping and then straight home?" Scott rounded on his brother, in a casual just-checking-in but also not-so-casual I'm-the-big-brother-in-charge-and-you-need-to-answer-me-or-else kind of way.

"Nothing Scott, that's exactly what we did. He probably just stepped in something on the way home. Come on Alan, what did you want to talk to me about?"

And with that, John hurriedly steered his beaming little brother up the stairs and into his room before any further questions could be asked.

"Scott, forget about it. Everyone's home and fine, that's all that matters. Bigger fish to fry at the moment, remember?" Virgil reminded him.

"Hhhm. Yeah, I guess." Though he certainly wasn't done with the matter, that was for sure. Gordon was up to something. Heck, _John_ was likely up to something too. Neither of those was ever a good scenario to just let slide, never mind if they were in on whatever it was together. But Virgil was right. Bigger fish and all…time to face the music.

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"How did this happen Ma?" Jeff asked several hours later as he drained what he suddenly realised was his fifth Christmas Brandy of the night.

They had had a lovely afternoon, all the family together. Gordon had reappeared just as lunch was served, hair wet and smelling of way too much shower gel. Alan and John had eventually been pried out of John and Virgil's room where they had been holed-up having hushed but very animated discussions involving John's laptop, a flip chart and far too many whispers of 'quiet, they'll hear you!' for Scott's liking. Then there had been board games, fun, Christmas decorating and a few hours of exactly what Jeff had been hoping for this holiday season. So much so that he hadn't even noticed that his two eldest had been plying him with booze all the way through it until he was good and merry and almost didn't realise what he was signing when they both presented him with temporary employment slips for the local mall. The room had cleared pretty quickly after that with everyone slightly nervous at what Jeff's reaction would be, and truth be told, he had been pretty saddened at first. Not mad per say, just disheartened that the fun they had had that afternoon would be coming to an abrupt end because of his own rules. Even so, he couldn't fault them one bit. His boys were hard-working, good kids at the heart of it. And, as his mother had not so subtly pointed out, they were only doing exactly what Jeff himself would have done in that situation. The boys themselves were just happy the permission slips were all generic and didn't go into any detail on what they would be doing or more importantly _wearing_; simply stating: 'Christmas Retail Assistant'.

"You raised them well, that's how."

"But now they're going to be working all hours of their Christmas break. I'll probably see them even less than last year. Did you know that Gordon asked me if he could spend his time off over at Coach Ashford's Winter training camp too? Said he needs to work on his swim technique over the break if he wants to make the team this year. And John - he's having to hit the library every day and it's all for that extra credit course _I_ encouraged him to do. And now Alan too, little Alan, my Christmas cracker himself wants to follow in his brother's footsteps and go with him to the library! I mean, what the heck is that?! Of course, I couldn't say no to any of them. What kind of parent would I be then? Is it me, Ma? Did I scare them away? Was this afternoon all an act to get me sloshed enough to agree to their plans so they can all just run off and do their own things?"

"Those boys are a lot of things Jefferson, but malicious isn't one of them. If I were you, I'd be mighty proud and if Lucy were still here, bless her heart, I'd bet she'd be saying the same thing too. That is, after smacking you upside the head and telling you to stop being such a miserable old man. The boys had a fabulous time this afternoon, we all did, and if we have to wait until Christmas day to do it all again, then so be it. Now come on, help me clean up."

Jeff smiled warmly at the mention of his late wife, raising his glass a little in her honour as he thought of her watching over him now. His mother was right, of course. She always was. "Yes Ma."


	3. Chapter 2

It had been a week of early wake-ups and late home-comings, for Jeff also, who had taken the opportunity to dive back to the office and clear a few more things off his to-do list while the boys were all out. It was only Grandma who was left in the house during the day and the woman was now officially concerned, to put it mildly. By the time Monday night rolled around, she had just about had enough.

"Jefferson?! You need to do something about those boys!" the old lady demanded before her son had even managed to shed his coat or make it to the living room.

"Okay Mom," the patriarch sighed, "who did what to who this time?"

"No-one did anything! That's the problem. It's just too damned quiet around here!"

"Excuse me?" His Mother never cursed. Whatever this was, it must be serious.

"It's those jobs and that training camp and all that studying! Don't you notice how peaceful it is around here? Everyone is pussyfooting around everyone else. And then there's Gordon and that_ SMELL! Surely _you must have noticed _that."_

Oh. Well, yes, there was no denying that one. His boys were many things but subtle was not one of them and they certainly weren't as sneaky and good at hiding things as they all seemed to think they were.

"And ANOTHER thing," ah, of course, she wasn't done yet, "you do realise John is walking around here with a limp, don't you? And Virgil and Scott will barely look each other in the eye let alone hold a conversation. And I don't know what exactly is going on with Virgil and my singing Santa ornament but three times this week I've found it hidden in the pantry or in the closet under the stairs and I know he's responsible despite the fact he denies it! Do you know I found him yesterday just sitting outside in the fields in the snow all alone for no good reason? He said he was just 'enjoying the peace and quiet'."

"Maybe he was?"

"This is Kansas, Jefferson, it is twenty-four degrees Fahrenheit out there!"

"Look, Ma, I know you're worried, but everything's fine. Trust me. I'm on top of it."

"On top of it?"

"Yes Ma."

"Oh really?"

"One hundred percent." Jeff took her by the arms, a pleading look in his eyes. Yes, truth be told, there were some mighty strange behaviours going on in his house right now. In fact, it was making for a great spectator sport from his perspective, knowing full well what was truly going on and why. Yes, he did have to admit that he'd forgotten to factor his Mother and her potential reaction into the equation, but he was having far too much fun watching it all unfold to let her in on the secret just yet.

Just as it looked as though the lady may have begun to relax, both the front and back doors burst open and the boys began to pile in.

At the front door were Scott and Virgil – Scott, whose normally expertly groomed hair was now spiked with silver and blue glitter and Virgil, looking nothing short of frazzled and _harassed_. At the back door was Gordon, covered from head to toe in thick, sticky mud and looking like something the cat dragged in. Then from behind him appeared John, with a black eye, and Alan talking a mile a minute so loud his squeaky, excitable voice echoed around the hallway. Virgil flinched wildly at the sound as all the boys froze in place on seeing each other arrive. Scott stared worryingly at John. Gordon stared in awe at Scott's hair as if desperate to comment but for some reason unable. And once again, though it lay thick in the air for all to encounter, not one of them made mention of that absolutely awful smell. Not even Alan.

Silence filled the room in an awkward standoff as all the boys looked nervously towards Grandma and their Dad.

"Oh, for crying out loud!" Grandma shrieked as she spun her back on Jeff and stalked off to the kitchen, washing her hands of the entire situation.

As the door slammed shut behind her, the boys looked once again towards Jeff.

"Dad." Scott ventured.

"Scott."

"Erm, I think I'm going to go take a shower," Scott continued when bizarrely, nothing more was said.

"Sounds like a good idea. Dinner's at Eight."

And with that, Jeff retired to his study, a slight smile creeping into his features as he left his children to their mischief, each making their own excuses before quickly darting away to their various hideouts for the night.

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Later that night and after a truly awkward dinner where no-one seemed to want to talk about their day, despite Grandma's best efforts to get more information, a still-worried Scott stood lurking outside of John and Virgil's room with a glass pressed up to the door.

"You know it's rude to eavesdrop, son." Jeff spoke softly from behind, causing a startled Scott to jump. Come with me, I think it's about time we had a little talk."

"Yes Sir."

Scott's head hung in shame as he took the offered seat in his Father's study.

"So, do you want to tell me why you thought it was okay to encroach on your brother's privacy like that?"

"I know it was wrong."

"Yes, it was, but you did it anyway. So, tell me what's going on."

"I was just concerned about John, that's all. I mean, did you see him? He had a black eye, Dad! From going to the _library_. On top of that limp he had the other day…I just thought that maybe he was in trouble or something. And apparently, he has bruises on his back, too."

"What makes you think that?"

"I just heard Virgil say it. He's worried too."

"And what did John say?"

"He told Virge not to worry; that he was fine."

"No, what did John say to you?"

"Me?"

"Yes. Did you at least ask him what happened before you started spying on him?"

"Well…no, not exactly. I can't."

"You can't?"

"No."

"And why is that?"

"Because if I ask him about that, he's going to ask me about…other things."

"Things like your new job."

"Yeah. Wait, no. Why would you say that?"

"Scott, I'm going to let you in on a secret."

"Dad, no offence, but I can't really handle any more secrets right now."

"This one will help you out with that. Trust me."

Scott looked at his father with interest. It had been a while since he had been summoned to the study and on previous occasions it had been more for lectures and meetings about grades and chores. He had gone in there tonight fully expecting to be on the receiving end of a long telling-off after what he had been caught doing, but this was…strange. Different. His Dad didn't seem mad at all and whatever the man had to say had his interest piqued.

"Okay."

A long, fond look passed from Father to Son as Jeff realised just how lucky he was to have such moments with his eldest; the chance to impart some wisdom, as it were.

"Scott, I know what your job is."

"I'm working for Mr Thompson, selling sports kit. I help out on the shop floor…and other places."

"Yes, I hear you're working very hard. With Helena McKinley, as I understand it."

"Yeah, with Hele-" Scott suddenly stopped. This was not good. "How did you know that?" he asked cautiously.

"Did you know that Helena's mother, Irene McKinley, works for Tracy Industries? In fact, she's my regional Head of Marketing. Fabulous woman. Excellent at her job. Normally all she wants to talk about is work, but this past week, do you know what her number one topic of conversation has been?"

"I think I can guess," Scott mumbled into the floor, cheeks suddenly flushing a wild shade of scarlet.

"Apparently the biggest thing going on this Christmas in the Marketing world is the new ad-campaign over at Thompson's Sporting Goods. 'Stroke of genius', she called it. As I understand it, their goods are flying off the shelves now and all because of an idea her daughter put forward to the owner. Helena has big plans to follow in her Mother's footsteps, it seems."

"MmmHuh," Scott mumbled again, fearing he knew exactly where this was leading, and boy was his Dad ever dragging this out to torture him.

"So anyway, there she is going on and on about this wonderful initiative and how her daughter just looks so beautiful and graceful modelling in the shop window and cheering for the crowds in the daily showcase. In fact, her only wish was that they could have paired Helena up with someone a bit more coordinated and who maybe knew a thing or two about cheerleading because apparently this mystery model they'd 'lumbered' her with has two left feet and all the grace of a drunken giraffe.

"A drunken giraffe?"

"A drunken giraffe. Now by this point, of course, I've heard so much about it that I had to go and check this whole thing out for myself. So down to the mall I went."

Oh no.

"Want to guess what I saw when I got there, Scott?"

"Not really…"

"Well, let's just say, it explained a few things that was for sure." Jeff smiled warmly at his son, waiting to see what the reaction would be.

"And…?"

"And what?"

"That's it? No other comments? Don't you want to laugh at me like the others will when they find out?"

"Why would I laugh at you? You're just doing your job."

"But Dad, it's _embarrassing_. So embarrassing, my own girlfriend dumped me when she found out."

"Maybe it's not what you hoped you'd be doing when you went over there. Maybe you didn't intend for, and I quote: '#ScottieTheCheerleadingHottie', to be trending all over social media right now." Oh God, no. "But jobs can be that way sometimes. We do what we have to do for our families and for others. Do you know how much of a difference this ad-campaign is making to Mr. Thompson? His sales are through the roof because of you two and it's only been a week. You've probably saved his business."

"So, what's your point?"

"My point is, stop being so hard on yourself and worrying about what everyone else is up to or thinking. It's Christmas. Have a little faith in the others around you and just enjoy yourself."

"But Dad, what about John? Something isn't right and if I don't- "

"John is fine."

"But you saw the state of him, someone's clearly hurting him. I mean, I know John can be pretty clumsy when he's got his head stuck in a book or something, but there's a limit Dad. No way did he accidentally do all that to himself in a week."

"Or maybe he did and you just don't know all the circumstances. Accidents do happen, you know, Scott."

"Dad, no offense, but you're being way too calm about all this. Unless…"

"Unless I know something you don't?"

"Do you?"

"Scott, I'm your Farther. It's my job to know everything and to do all the worrying so that you don't have to and trust me when I tell you, that John is absolutely fine. Do you really think I wouldn't have intervened by now if I thought he was in any danger?"

"Guess not."

"Right. You boys mean more to me than anything else in the world and don't you forget it."

Scott couldn't help but smile at how far his Father had come in the last few years. After their mother's death, things had looked pretty bleak for them all and it had been a long and hard journey to get back to this point. To hear his Father now talking so open and lovingly and to know that he really did mean every word of it was something Scott didn't take lightly.

"So, you're really not going to tell me what's going on or how he's getting all those bruises?"

"Not my place to tell," Jeff replied apologetically, "but if it puts your mind at ease, just look at it this way: You heard what John said to Virgil, yes?"

"That he's fine and there's nothing to worry about."

"And do you _really_ think Virgil is just going to go and let that drop?"

Scott smirked at the sly grin on his Dad's face. "Not a chance."

"Then your brother already has it covered; no need for you to get involved. Let Virgil take this one."

"Yeah, okay. He probably has more time to handle it than I do right now anyway. Man, I wish I had Virgil's job. He has it so easy."

Jeff studied his son's face carefully as Scott finally relaxed back into the comfy office chair.

"Scott, what exactly has Virgil told you about his job?"

"Not a whole lot. It's my fault really. I've been avoiding him, too busy trying to keep my own little secret. I really thought I'd been busted this afternoon when I left work with all that glitter still all over me. Stupid stuff wouldn't come off – another one of Helena's 'great' ideas."

"But Virgil didn't say anything about it?"

"No…that was weird, actually. He never even mentioned it. Come to think of it, he never talks about work at all. Mine or his. All I know is he's working stockroom over at that big new department store on the upper level."

"Is that what he told you?"

"Sure. Why, is that not what he told you?"

"It's exactly what he told me."

"In the same way that I told you I was just working the shop floor?"

"All I'm going to say is that you two boys have a lot more in common that you think. All five of you, for that matter."

Now Scott was more confused than ever. Just exactly what was going on around him that his Dad apparently knew so much about while he had managed to miss it all?

"Dad, if the aim of this talk was to stop me worrying, you've officially managed to achieve the exact opposite."

Jeff sighed. His boy would make a wonderful father someday, he really would. But right now, he still had a few lessons to learn.

"Scott, listen to me. The point I'm trying to make is that there will always be things going on that are out of your control and no amount of eavesdropping or snooping around is going to fix that. Sometimes you just have to sit back and trust in others, like knowing that Virgil will look out for John. You don't always have to be in control of or know everything."

"Because you already do?"

"Sometimes. Usually, in fact and on this occasion most certainly. But that's _my_ job as your Dad. All I need for you to do, is relax and try to start enjoying yours because no matter how much you might hate it right now, you're doing really well. You hear me?"

"I hear you. But…"

"What is it, son?"

"Dad, I know you said to just let it all go, and I'll try, I really will. But I have to know – _please_ – it's driving us all mad… Exactly what the heck is going on with Gordon and that seriously disgusting SMELL?!"

"Hah!" Jeff roared with laughter. Well, come to think of it, this one he could actually do with Scott's help on. "Son, let me ask you this: If you were Gordon's age and your older brothers sat you down and told you they were going to go out, get jobs and then just give you some of their money because you weren't old enough to make any of your own and all you had to do was sit back and wait for it to appear, what would you have done?"

"I would have said no freaking way and found a way to go out and make my own money. Wait, are you saying…? Oh, that little - ! We had a deal! Are you telling me he's completely ignored everything we agreed and gone out and found himself a job? Is that even legal? Surely it can't be safe? And what about his training camp?!"

"Oh, he still goes to that, for the three hours a morning it lasts. Then he catches a ride back to Coach Ashford's family farm, where the Coach lets him work the stables for the afternoon."

"Coach Ashford lives on a farm? But that's great. Gords has never been into helping out with that side of things here."

"And he still isn't. In fact, I don't think I've seen him this miserable in a long time. Maybe you could have a word with him - teach him why we do what we do and how important it all is, like your Grandfather did for you back when you were his age and just as uninterested in that side of our family business?"

"Yeah, I can do that. Might be fun actually. I used to love hanging out with Gramps while he taught me all that stuff. Just as soon as I give Gordon a piece of my mind for lying to me, that is!"

"You mean, like you're lying to him about what you're out doing all day?"

"Yeah, okay, point taken. I'll go easy on the little squirt. I think being around all that livestock is probably punishment enough anyway, that can't be easy work. But Dad, why is he lying? Farming isn't embarrassing? Half the people we know are farmers."

"Scott, put yourself in Gordon's shoes again. If you were eleven and loved nothing more than pranking your brothers and then one day said brothers found out you were spending all your spare time literally shovelling…well, I'm sure you've smelled what he's shovelling. We all have. Anyway, in Gordon's mind, would you want your brother's knowing that was what you were out doing?"

"But it's just a job - you do what you have to do, it's not embarrassing."

"That sounds like some mighty good advice there, Scooter."

Scott smirked. He had flat out walked right into that one.

"Right, yeah, I get it now. What exactly is the Coach farming, anyway?"

"Reindeer, of all things. Can you believe it? Every Christmas the Coach grooms a few of the heard up nice and presentable and loans them out to the mall to use in the Grotto on Christmas Eve – make things extra special for the children. I believe your brother has been helping him out with that."

"Oh, yeah. I remember. We did that whole grotto thing once, with Mom, back when we were little. She took me and Virge over there on reindeer day to see Santa, but it didn't go all that well and we never went back again. I think Virge has probably blocked it from his memory."

"What do you mean, it didn't go well?"

"You know, 'cause of Virgil and his whole 'big animal' thing."

Jeff blanched.

"Dad, what is it?"

"Oh, err…" he cleared his throat, suddenly a little more nervous than he would have liked to admit. "It's nothing, I just…Virgil's 'big animal' thing. I'd forgotten all about _that…" _

He suspected Virgil had, too.


	4. Chapter 3

It was 11am the next day and Virgil was in a candy-cane and fake-snow covered Hell. Despite Mr Rafferty's assurance that he would remain firmly hidden in the back, Virgil was now working front-of-house present handling duty for the fifth time in as many days. No wander the last Elf to wear his costume had up and quit. So far today, Virgil had been sneezed on, laughed at, jumped on, sat on, yelled at, cried all-over and as of twenty minutes ago, firmly kicked in the Jingle Bells. The child's mother had apologised, swearing over and over that her 'little angel' hadn't meant to do it. Virgil wasn't so sure.

As the next child came up to sit on Santa's lap and claim their present, Virgil did what he could to rally and plaster a big grin back on his face. As worn-down as he was, he knew what this meant to the children. Christmas was supposed to be a magical time and it was his job to bring that magic. In stripy tights, tiny green shorts, curly-toed jingle-shoes, pointed ears and a silly hat, it seemed. All of which barely fit him. Then there was the rosy cheeks they painted on him every morning – the less said about that, the better. Still, he ploughed on, humming away to himself to try and block out the incessant tones of 'We Wish you a Merry Christmas' as it blared out across the speakers for the seventh time that morning. Once those songs got in your head, you just couldn't get them out again.

Turning his back on Santa in order to reach into the sleigh and pick out the next present, he didn't see the small gathering of teenage girls siphon in behind him until it was all too late. There were three of them all together, all too-much makeup and designer handbags and everything that Virgil usually didn't care less about except for this time one of the girls who wore it was his very own girlfriend and he didn't spot her until it was far too late. Spinning around with present in hand and fully expecting to be confronted with the next small child, his eyes went wide in horror as the grotto camera flashed, forever capturing the moment Ellie Haskins first saw her handsome, football playing boyfriend dressed as a giant green Elf. Worst of all, she wasn't even there with a child. She was there with her friends, for a joke, and now that joke was him. Ellie hid her head in her hands in shame. Her friends stared and laughed. Virgil leapt three foot in the air clear across the sleigh and out the back door of the grotto in an attempt to get away, only to land face to face with…

"GORDON?! Oh, come on! Please tell me this is not happening!"

"Heya Virge. Erm, looking good there, big brother."

Virgil just stood there, staring and panting - out of breath, angry, embarrassed and all together a broken man. Surely his day couldn't get any worse.

The big beaming smile on Gordon's face suggested otherwise.

Then there was the Coach. Wait, what?!

"Tracy! Looks like I get two for the price of one today. Nice legs," Coach Ashford greeted him as the older man took a scrutinising look at his prize Line-backer before wandering off to talk with Mr Rafferty.

"Don't worry Virge, I'm sure he won't tell anyone," Gordon offered, realising this was not the time for jokes after all as his big brother sunk down to sit on the floor in defeat. "And neither will I."

"It's not you guys I'm worried about," Virgil muttered into his arms as he buried his head in his lap in dismay; the sounds of his thoroughly embarrassed girlfriend and her jeering friends trailing off into the distance on the other side of the door. "Gords, what are you even doing here? I thought you were supposed to be at training camp? You know Scott is going to kill you when he finds out, right?" he lifted his head to take a good look over his wayward younger sibling, surprised by the sincerity of his previous statement and amazed that nothing more had been said about his outfit.

Instead, Gordon clambered down to the floor to sit with him, pulling a pair of fake reindeer antlers out of his back pocket and sticking them on to his head as he sat.

"Training camp is mornings only and I'm still going - it finishes at the end of the week anyway. Plus, Scott's a big-old pussycat on the inside, he'll get over it."

"That doesn't answer my question of what you're doing here?"

"Same as you I guess, earning my keep."

"How?"

"Coach Ashford's reindeer farm."

Virgil looked his brother over. Yep, he really was here and it wasn't a joke.

"You know Scott and I were going to share our earnings, right? Like we said we would."

"Yeah, but that didn't really seem fair to us."

"Us?"

"Err, forget I said that."

Virgil just laughed. He didn't know why they hadn't seen this coming.

"So where _is_ John working? I'm guessing it's not the library."

"Doubt it, but honestly, really couldn't tell you. Guy's a mystery wrapped in a Rubik's cube."

They both smiled at that. That really was John to a tee.

"So seriously Gords, what the heck are you doing here at the grotto?"

"Oh, yeah, well, Coach Ashford is loaning out one of the reindeer to the big man in the red suit on Christmas Eve. I'm just here to help out with the practice run, you know, make sure Bessie behaves herself."

"Bessie?"

"The Reindeer."

Suddenly the smiles dropped and both boys' eyes went wide.

"Bessie the REINDEER? As in, there's a real, live _reindeer_?! In _here_?!" Virgil almost screeched.

Gordon swallowed hard. Reindeers were big animals and it was a long and well-known fact in the Tracy family that Virgil just didn't get on with big animals. Or more accurately, big animals just didn't get on with _him_. As if on cue, an angry snort and stamping of hooves was heard from above them and as both boys looked up, there was Bessie – nostrils flared and raring for attack. Climbing slowly to their feet and trying not to startle her further, Virgil began to sidestep carefully to the right in an attempt to create some distance from his brother. He knew exactly where this was going and there would be no escaping it. He just hoped those horns weren't as sharp as they looked.

"Easy girl," Gordon cooed as Coach Ashford and Mr Rafferty stepped around to join him. The reindeer never took her eyes off of Virgil.

"Tracy, what the heck have you gone and done to Bessie?" the Coach asked as he took in the sight of the most docile and loving of all his heard gearing up for attack.

"Nothing Sir, I swear," Virgil squeaked out, "big animals just kinda don't like me…"

"Say what now?" the Coach asked as he tried and failed to grab hold of Bessie's reins, stepping back carefully as the deer bucked and snorted hard in anger, throwing her head down and edging ever that bit closer to Virgil who was now firmly pinned to the grotto door by Bessie's giant antlers.

"It's true Sir," Gordon supplied nervously, "always been a thing. Horses, big dogs, alpacas, Kangaroo…they all just go for Virge."

"Kangaroo?"

"Yes Sir," Virgil squeaked out again, face full of reindeer breath. "Gords, do you maybe wanna get you pal here to back down?"

"I'm trying, she just seems to really, really hate you V."

"MmmHuh, I see that Gordon. What do I do about it?!"

"Errrm…"

"Here, try this." The Coach pulled a large bag of reindeer feed out from his coat and launched it towards Gordon, who luckily managed to catch hold of the bag and began to lure the reindeer away.

It was a hard choice for Bessie. She was certainly torn between her pure, unprovoked hatred for the second eldest Tracy child and her want for her favourite snack and it was a tense minute for all those involved as she made her choice. Finally backing down, Bessie began to move away, retreating a few steps before coming to rest in front of Gordon where she proceeded to bury her snout inside the feed bag. Everyone relaxed as Virgil breathed a sigh of relief, but it seemed it was all a ploy on the reindeer's part. Chugging back the contents of the feed bag in one swift movement, she suddenly spun, rounding back on Virgil and charging with all her might. Before he had even the time to react, a pair of front hooves slammed into his chest as the bucking reindeer launched him backwards, straight through the grotto door where he landed hard on his back on top of Santa's sleigh to the chorus of a crowd of tiny screaming children. Bessie, satisfied she had made her point, wandered casually back towards Gordon and the Coach as if nothing had even happened.

As the Coach began the job of re-securing the deer and Mr Rafferty and Santa did their best to placate the visitors, Gordon climbed cautiously up onto the sleigh and looked down at his big brother who lay flat on his back, groaning in pain and surrounded by presents.

"Virgil, you okay?" he asked awkwardly as the Elf in question began to haul himself up, more presents scattering around him as he did so.

"Mmmmm," his brother hummed as he clambered to his feet, clutching at his chest as he attempted to dismount the dishevelled Sleigh.

"You sure?" Gordon prodded as Virgil attempted to stretch out his back.

"Yeah…sure, why not. Nothing we haven't dealt with before, right?" he mumbled miserably.

"Never a reindeer though, sooo, that's something. Another one to add to your list, huh? You know, after the Kangaroo," Gordon ventured, warily. His brother desperately looked like he needed some cheering up and thankfully after taking a second to think it over, Virgil gave in and smiled. "Hey, maybe they'll even get you a new costume now that that one has muddy reindeer prints all up the front of it. You know, maybe one that actually fits…" Gordon made a face as he nodded towards Virgil's way-too-short shorts.

And that was exactly what Virgil needed, a bit of light-hearted humour in an otherwise awful day. Besides, maybe his brother was right and he could barter a new outfit off of the back of this. He sure as heck wouldn't be able to just give in and quit now. Given the embarrassment he had put Ellie through this morning, he sensed it was going to take a lot more than one necklace to get back in her good books and that would require a lot more earnings than he had currently managed to make. "Come here, squid," he called out, playfully grabbing his little brother by the collar and ruffling his hair as Gordon fought to get away, dislodging the younger's fake antlers in the process and subsequently causing himself to wince as his reindeer-battered chest protested the movement.

"Tracy Senior, unhand my Chief Deer wrangler and go get yourself checked over. Junior - harness her up, I think it's time we got Bessie here back to the heard."

"Yes Sir," the boys chorused as Mr Rafferty approached, having temporarily closed the grotto.

"Sorry about all that Virgil. Look, I know you're probably three steps away from walking out on me, but I'm already down to just two Elves and I really need you to come back tomorrow so what would you say to double time for this morning and same again all Christmas week?"

"Huh?" Virgil questioned, having not expected this development. An elbow in the ribs directed his attention downwards.

"He's desperate, V," Gordon mumbled, "go for the uniform."

"Erm, that would be great, but it doesn't really seem fair on Mel," he ventured, remembering his equally hard-working and only remaining Elf colleague. "Maybe if I could just get a new uniform, you know, one that actually fits? And possibly ditch the face paint?"

"Deal. Absolutely. You got it. I'll have it here first thing tomorrow. Now why don't you head down to first aid, have them take a quick look – no arguments, mall policy and all - then take the rest of the day off. I'll cover the remainder of the shift with Mel."

"Thank you, Mr Rafferty."

With that, Virgil headed for the changing rooms as his boss stalked off.

"You know you could have had both, right? The guy was practically begging you," Gordon groaned at his big brother's chivalrous nature.

"It's not always about the money, kid," Virgil schooled as he smiled at Gordon's inevitable eye-roll. "Now don't you have a reindeer to go catch?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"Oh, and Gordon, could we maybe keep this as our little secret? You know, not tell the others?"

"I dunno V, what's it worth to me…?"

With that Gordon ducked out the door and was gone, grinning wildly and narrowly missing the flying Elf shoe that was aimed towards his head. Despite all the jokes, they both knew he wouldn't tell.

FABFABFABFABFABFABFABFABFABFABFABFABFABFABFABFABFABFABFAB

An hour or so later and Virgil, now back in his own clothes and having been given the all clear to leave by the Mall's dedicated first aider, was making his way back to the little medical office after realising he had left his jacket behind. It had been a fight to convince the first aider not to ship him off to the hospital or even call in his Dad, but somehow he had managed it nonetheless and he was not looking forward at having to go back in there and risk the man changing his mind. Slinking around into the tiny and thankfully empty waiting area, he suddenly faltered as his ears latched on to a voice he had not been expecting to hear. Grabbing his jacket from the chair he had left it on earlier, he quickly dived back out and around the corner out of sight as the office door opened.

"You know you've nearly broken the record for most number of visits within a week? It's a three-strike deal here, remember. I'm doing you a favour by letting this one slide as it isn't so bad, but one more incident and that's it I'm afraid. No more job. Mall policy."

"I know. It won't happen again. I'm sorry."

"Not your fault kid, just get better at it. Fast."

"I'll try."

And with that, the office door shut and the patient left, head down in defeat and without so much as a look back as he trailed back out into the mall and on his way. Vigil looked on with worry mounting on more worry as the sad figure of his next youngest brother retreated into the distance.

John.


	5. Chapter 4

"He's not going to like that you followed him," Alan ventured, causing Virgil to spin suddenly on the spot to where he now saw the youngest of all the brothers sat behind him at one of the canteen tables.

"Alan? What are you doing here?" Virgil asked, shocked at seeing yet another of his brothers lurking around the mall where they shouldn't have been.

"Well, duh. John's pretending to be at the library and the only way I can get out of the house is to go with John, so I'm here pretending to be at the library too."

Well that answered absolutely none of Virgil's question.

"Okay Alan, let's try that again." Virgil walked over and took a seat next to his brother. "Why are you and John pretending to be at the library when you're actually sat here in the ice-rink café? And what the heck does John think he's doing out there? He's going to get himself killed at this rate."

Both Virgil and Alan winced as a loud bang drew their attention to the large, plastic partition that separated the little café from the ice rink itself, watching on as their not-so-graceful middle brother was now smushed face on into the barrier behind a wall of equally unstable kids. Thankfully he didn't appear to have seen them. Picking himself up, John attempted to straighten out his high-visibility vest and assist the others to their feet, only to bring himself crashing back down again next to them.

"Surely they're not letting him work as a Marshal?! He can barely stand up in those things. How do they expect him to be able to help co-ordinate other people?"

"Well, it was the only place here that would take someone his age and you know, Jarod's Dad runs the rink so he agreed to do Johnny a favour. I think he was hoping John would have given in and quit by now but, well, you know John."

"Yeah, that's the stubborn Tracy gene right there."

Another crash and a bang and John was star-fished back on the ice again. Virgil made a pained face as he watched on in sympathy.

"Don't worry, there's only another five minutes to go. Rink closes in the afternoons. Plus, you learn to just sorta tune out the crashes after a while," Alan supplied.

Virgil looked over his little brother with interest. Five more minutes of John getting his butt kicked when he could easily intervene and put a stop to it was not an easy thing to just sit back and take. He needed a distraction.

"So, tell me Ally. What exactly have you been doing here this whole time? You're not taking turns out on the rink too, are you?"

"Nope, they don't let kids my age do it. What if I were, though? At least I know how to skate."

It was true. Alan could get around the rink as well as any of the rest of them, all except for John, that is. Poor boy had just always been that little bit too uncoordinated and overly clumsy to get on with skating and had subsequently found himself some other interests.

"So, what is all this then?" Virgil gestured to the laptop that sat on the table in front of them and the pile of paperwork beside it.

"Well, it's kind of a side job, I guess. Since the rink is only open mornings and we're both free in the afternoons, we joined this website where you get given a shopping list of stuff that's been ordered online by one of the local people who can't get out to get it themselves – you know, little old ladies mostly, but also people who work and don't have time to shop, that sort of thing – and then me and John go and pick it up for them."

"You're doing other people's shopping?"

"Yeah."

"And you get paid to do it?"

"Well, just tips mostly, when we drop it off for them. But people are pretty generous this time of year so the money's good and sometimes we stay and help them gift-wrap it too so then they give us extra."

Virgil stared down at Alan, amazed.

"You guys do all that, every day? How do you get the presents over to their houses?"

"Well, that's the hard part, 'cause we only really have the bus and sometimes it takes us lots of trips if it's like a big shop or something, or more than one order. A couple of times we had to take a cab but then that meant we had to pay more to get there so it ended up not being really worth it. Money-wise, that is. Is was still nice to help those people out, you know?"

Virgil smiled warmly at his little brother's sincerity.

"Yeah, I know. That's pretty amazing Ally. You know, if you wanted, Scott and I usually finish at six so we could always help you guys out with the deliveries if you wanted? That way you could take on more orders during the afternoon and just pile the stuff into Scott's car and we could all drop it off on the way home?"

"Really?"

"Sure, why not? I'd rather that than have you guys sneaking around and getting in all sorts of busses and taxis to stranger's houses."

"You're starting to sound way too much like Scott, you know that, Virge?"

"Hey, he just cares. And so do I. Although, you know this means I'll have to tell him what's going on, right? He might not be too happy you guys have been keeping secrets."

"Meh, I think Scott has enough secrets of his own right now to worry about ours."

"What does that mean?" Virgil asked, confused.

"Oh, nothing. Just, we spend the afternoons shopping, me and John. Sometimes we see things…"

Suddenly it wasn't Scott that Virgil was concerned with.

"See things, like around the mall?"

"Like at Thompson's Sporting Goods. Or, you know, that new department store upstairs with the Santa's grotto on the front of it…" Alan trailed off, face the picture of sweet and innocent but implications anything but. Oh God.

You know, Ally, if you don't want my help…"

"No! Wait, I didn't say that!"

Virgil grinned. Problem solved.

"Don't worry Sprout, I got your back. Although maybe let Gordon in on it too, yeah? His training camp finishes at the end of the week so he'll have some time free in the mornings to help you out."

"You mean before he goes off to that stinky old reindeer farm?" Alan asked, making a face as he said it.

"You know about that?"

"We share a room, Virge. It's not like he could hide it. He's Gordon. He's messy. There are muddy clothes stuffed under, like, everything."

"Well, I guess there is that."

"You know he was bringing one of the reindeers here today?"

"Yeah…I know."

"And I heard on the two-way in the kitchens that there was an animal attack earlier on."

"Mmmhuhh…" Virgil did not like where this was going.

"So, I guess that's a new one for your list then, huh?"

Virgil stared down at his younger sibling in awe.

"What makes you so sure it was me?"

"It's a big animal, Virge. And, well, you know – it's you."

"So?"

"So, everyone knows they just look for you. It's like they have some kind of a radar. You're like, the personal punching bag of the big animal world."

Great, what a reputation to have. Alan was right though. Thank God Dad had never had any great desires to take them on Safari.

"So, it really wasn't you, after all?" Alan asked, shocked.

"No…" Virgil sighed, defeated. "It was."

Alan laughed. "Sorry Virge."

Virgil laughed too. "Nah, s'ok. Guess it is pretty funny."

"So, it didn't hurt you?"

"Well, I got two giant hoof prints in the front and a sleigh-shaped dent in the back, but nothing I can't handle."

"Hoof prints?"

"Hoof prints."

"Wow."

"Yeah."

A moments silence, and then they were both laughing at the ridiculousness of it all. Before long the siren was blaring to mark the end of the session out on the ice.

"Hey, do me a favour?" Virgil asked. "Don't tell John I was here? I think he's had a pretty rough morning so last thing he probably wants is me here making it worse."

"You're not going to lecture him on the dangers of skating when you don't know how to skate?"

"Nah, I have a better idea. But hey, what I said before still stands though. Meet us at the carpark just after six and we'll give you a hand with your present drop."

"Thanks Virgil. Oh and hey, if you have some time free, you should check out the new window display over where Scott's working. It's pretty…interesting."

Hhhm. Okay. Well that sounded ominous. Maybe he would go and do just that.

"No worries kid." He gave his brother an affectionate nudge before looking up to see John attempting to - very slowly - make his way off the ice. "Gotta' run."

And with that Virgil was off. Quick stop at the jewellery store to make his second down-payment on Ellie's necklace, then off home for a few hours downtime with Grandma before he needed to be back to meet the others later on. But first, about that window…


	6. Chapter 5

Scott was lost for words. It didn't happen often, but when it did, you could usually bank on it being down to a brother or two. This time it was two.

"Scotty. You okay there?" Virgil asked as they missed their next turning.

"I just…can't believe they've been at it for over a week and neither one of us noticed."

Virgil Scoffed. "Yeah, think we've lost our watchful big brother status."

As luck had had it, Scott had been given the afternoon off also and had been making his way out of Mr Thompson's store (thankfully after having changed back into his normal attire) just as Virgil had turned up to check out the window display Alan had been so keen for him to see. While Virgil didn't entirely understand Alan's reasons for sending him there, he did have to admit the teenage girl modelling the new Cheerleading range on the other side of the glass was pretty nice to look at. It was just a shame she only seemed to have eyes for Scott – a fact which was blatantly obvious for all to see, clearly reciprocal and which Virgil was not about to let Scott forget about any time soon. In fact, he had ribbed him about it all the way back to the car until they set off on their way home and the conversation inevitably moved on to the more pressing subject of just exactly what Alan and John had been getting themselves into this past week.

"But hey," Virgil tried again as he realised his previous comment probably wouldn't have done much to make Scott any happier, "at least now we don't have to share any of our earnings with them, so you might not even need to go back to work next week. You must have made enough by now to cover your present shopping?"

Scott sighed. "Yeah…I guess you're right. Although, you know, I think I might stick it out until Christmas anyway."

"Ah, okay. This wouldn't have anything to do with your little Cheerleading friend back there, would it?"

"No! Well, maybe a bit. I dunno. More to do with something Dad said, though."

"Dad?"

"Yeah. We had a talk. He said some…things. About work. The other guys. You."

"Me?"

"Yeah. Hey, Virge. You'd tell me if there was anything going on with you at work, right?"

"Going on? Like how?"

"Like if you were keeping any…secrets?"

Virgil swallowed nervously.

"You know what, forget I said anything. I think finding out about John and Alan has just made me paranoid."

Virgil breathed a sigh of relief, though the guilt that came with it was surmountable. He hated lying to Scott. Normally they were a team. They told each other everything. But this? Scott was his role model, someone to look up to. Virgil couldn't face the thought of his big brother finding out he was spending his days as a stocking-wearing, pointy-eared Christmas Elf. He just couldn't. It was bad enough the others had found out.

In the next seat over, Scott was having similar thoughts. This was it, the perfect opportunity to come clean to Virgil and tell him just what it was he had been doing every day. Especially after having just asked Virgil outright if _he_ was keeping any secrets. Scott felt like such a hypocrite. But even so. He was supposed to be the role model, the one they looked up to, listened to. Dad worked a lot and when Scott gave orders, he needed the others to respect him enough to listen and back him up and Virgil always did; his lifelong best friend and Second in Command. How could he possible let Virgil see him dancing around – and so, so _badly_ – in that little sparkly outfit and still expect his brother to respect him after that? Even as the thoughts went through his head, he knew he was doing his brother a disservice. This was pure Scott Tracy paranoia at its best. Virgil wouldn't care; of course he wouldn't. At least two of his other brothers had been roaming the mall for a week and clearly already knew and they had said nothing, not a word. Maybe he should…

"So why have you taken the afternoon off?" Virgil asked, attempting to fill the long silence that had settled over the car as Scott thought things through.

"What? Oh, yeah. Something else Dad said – I need to go have a little talk with Gordon about something."

"Err, you know, he might not be home. He has that training camp."

"It's fine, that's early mornings only, he'll be long finished by now."

"Well, yeah, but I think maybe he had other plans this afternoon so he probably won't be home."

"It's okay Virge, I know where he is."

"You do?"

Scott thought for a moment. Virgil had told him about Alan and John. It was only fair he repaid the favour.

"Yes, look Virgil. It turns out Gordon has been lying to everyone as well. Gordon's been working afternoons at Coach Ashford's Reindeer Farm."

"You know about that?" Virgil asked, surprised.

"Dad told me, he wants me to go spend some time with Gords, like Gramps did for me. Hold up. How did you know about that?"

"I swear Scott, I only found out today."

"But you've been working all day, how could you possibly…wait – you said you left early because of an incident at work. Gordon was helping take one of the reindeer into the mall this morning. That animal attack! That was you, wasn't it?!"

"WHAT?" Virgil spun on his brother. How in the heck –

"They put an alert out to all the other businesses, just in case anything else happened. I'm right, aren't I?"

"Oh, come ON!" Virgil vented as he buried his face into his arms on the dash, banging his head in an attempt to wipe out the events of the day. Scott could only laugh.

"Oh God, Virge, I'm sorry but it's just so…I mean, I should have worked it out earlier. As soon as I found out Gordon was going to be taking that reindeer in, I should have known. What is it with you, it's like they seek you out or something?"

"Scott, if I knew the answer to that, I wouldn't have a reindeer shaped impression in my chest right now." Scott's expression immediately switched to concern. "Don't worry, I'm fine, I got checked out and everything. You could have warned me he was coming in though."

"Sorry Virge, it didn't really occur to me that it would be an issue. I mean, you work in the stockroom – how did it even find you? You venture too close to the grotto or what?"

"Something like that."

Scott laughed again, he just couldn't help it, despite his brother's misery. Virgil glared.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, and I'm guessing you don't want to come with me to go Visit Gords so I'll drop you off at home with Grandma and then come grab you later to pick up the other guys. We can help them with their present drop on the way home just like you said we would."

"Really, you don't mind? You're not mad at them for lying."

"Nah," Scott really couldn't blame them for that, not with his own behaviour recently, "it might even be fun."

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It was later that night and the boys were helping Grandma clear up after dinner when Jeff eventually made it home, having gotten stuck at work despite it being the supposedly quiet holiday wind-down.

Everything had gone as planned for the others prior to that. Scott had made it over to Ashford's farm, having previously arranged it with the Coach. After Gordon's initial shock at seeing his big brother turn up and slight anger that Scott had decided to interfere in the first place, they had both actually ended up having a pretty fun afternoon. Scott had enjoyed teaching Gordon about farming and the reasons behind what he was being asked to do; everything from how it affected the ecosystem and helped the environment right through to the more personal and business benefits. Meanwhile, Gordon had enjoyed putting Scott to work as he talked, sitting back and listening as his older brother took on his usual cleaning, grooming and shovelling duties. Scott had smiled away to himself as Gordon had mentioned this 'friend' of his that was having trouble getting along with the reindeer and needed some help. Without wanting to let on that he had a very good idea who this 'friend' might be, Scott had suggested that maybe Gordon used his new found passion to help said 'friend' find a way around it. Gordon would do just that.

Before long, they had been having such a good time just hanging out and talking – something Gordon and Scott never really got the chance to do anymore – that Gordon had joined back in with the work too. It was the first time that he had really begun to understand how important his job actually was to the Coach and the Farm and that he wasn't just there to make money and clear up someone else's mess. He was actually contributing to a much bigger picture. He liked that. In fact, he liked it so much that he was actually looking forward to going back again tomorrow and telling his other brothers all about it.

After that, the Coach had let them off slightly early so they had both had time to go home, shower, pick up Virgil and head back to the mall for John and Alan who were waiting by the carpark in anticipation with a pile of goods the size of a small mountain. It had been a pure feat of engineering to get all five of them and the shopping into the car but they had managed it and had successfully delivered everything, gaining more than enough tips to make it worth-while doing again and again, which they fully planned to do right up until Christmas. Only, from tomorrow onwards Scott had vowed to bring their Grandpa's old truck so they would have more space for everything and John would keep the keys so that he and Alan could take on more orders and stack everything in the vehicle during the day, ready and waiting for when the others finished work. After all, as John put it, he would have much more time on his hands from tomorrow anyway, as the ice rink would surely be letting him go. There was no way he could make it through another shift without falling over and he was already on his final warning. Virgil had smiled at that – he had no intention of letting John be fired, not if he had anything to do with it.

Currently Virgil was off digging in the hallway closet, ploughing through load after load of old junk and boxes until he found…" Yes! There you are."

"Find what you needed, son?" Jeff asked as he narrowly avoided a falling box of books, catching it just before it could spill out all over the ground.

"Oh, sorry Dad! Think I may have messed up your filing system," Virgil grimaced as he looked about him at the chaos he had created during his search. "I didn't realise how much _stuff_ we had in here."

"Tell me about it. Worst up, I think most of it hasn't been touched since last Christmas when we piled the last load of unused presents in there."

"Yeah, we do just keep throwing more things in here, I'm surprised it hasn't collapsed on one of us before now," Virgil commented as another box came toppling down from an overcrowded shelving unit overhead, Jeff managing to pull his son clear just in time. Seeing what was in Virgil's hands, Jeff smiled.

"So, you found out what your brother's been up to every day then?" Jeff gestured to the battered old hockey skates looped by the laces around Virgil's neck and the slightly smaller, almost pristine pair still in the box in his hands.

"You know about that?"

"The mall calls me every time there's a medical incident. John had tried to fake number them of course, just like he faked the signature on his permission slip to get that job in the first place, but even with the business still getting on its feet, the Tracy name is getting into circulation. The first aiders over there looked me up. I've been getting reports ever since he started, keeping an eye on him just in case things got too bad."

"He faked your signature? Wow, weren't you mad? I mean, does he know that you know?"

"No, he doesn't. I thought about ringing him out, believe me. I even went down there, but after seeing him out there for myself I figured he was punishing himself enough sticking it out on that ice every day without me needing to give him another lecture. As long as he's not in any serious trouble and he's still looking out for Alan while he's there, which he is, then I'm happy. Plus, I've got Jarod's dad keeping an extra eye on the both of them. I don't think Alan has even realised that's why he gets brought a plate of free food and all the hot cocoa he wants while he sits in that café waiting for John every morning."

Virgil had to laugh at that. Even when he was at work all day, their father still knew everything they were up to. Bur wait, if he knew about John getting hurt, then…

"Hey Dad? When you said they called you about John. Does that mean – "

"That they also called me to report that the second eldest of my apparently very accident-prone brood had just been kicked through a door by an angry Christmas reindeer?"

Virgil winced.

"Yes, they did. However, as they assured me you were okay, there was nothing to worry about, and that you were insisting I didn't need to be contacted, I said thank you very much for the call and that was that."

"And that's why you're here now, checking up on me?"

"Exactly." Jeff smiled. "So?"

"So, I really am fine Dad. No major damage."

Jeff frowned. "What about minor damage."

"Just some weird shaped bruising, nothing more. It's all good. I think it's happened so often I've built up some kind of immunity to it. Didn't hurt half as much as that Kangaroo."

They both cringed at that memory.

"Ok son, well, if you're sure. Just don't go at it too hard," Jeff nodded again at the skates in Virgil's hand.

"We won't."

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John was hot. Beyond hot. In fact, he was bordering on being an absolute sweaty mess under all the extra layers Virgil had bounded him up in. Outside all around them the air was near to freezing, their breaths steaming up in front of them through the darkness. Even so, under all these coats and trousers, pads, cushions and the oversized football helmet stuck on his head, John would never feel it.

They had been out on the ice for half an hour already, down on the frozen pond in the back field. The other Tracy's had been skating there every Winter practically their whole lives; the pond deemed perfectly safe due to it being only about half a foot deep at the best of times. Still, John had never seen much of a need to venture out there before except for that one time his Father had insisted he try it, just to see if he liked it. He hadn't. He still didn't. Despite all that, he had taken on his new job – the only one available to him – determined to see it through to Christmas. That meant not getting fired and that meant taking up Virgil's offer of nightly skating lessons from this point forward. Every evening after dinner, his big brother had insisted, out of not wanting to see him hurt again. He was still sporting a wrist guard from this morning's disaster and didn't want to add another one to the mix. He only wished he had gone to Virgil sooner, but he had been too embarrassed to ask. It had come almost as a relief when after dinner that night Virgil had rocked into their shared bedroom, plonked John's once used skates down on the bed in front of him and told him he knew everything that had been going on. At the time, he had been unbelievably grateful for the offer of help, but now…

"Another lap, faster! The key is not to be scared of the ice, attack it! It can't hurt you if you own it, just remember that. First step is attitude," Virgil called as he zipped past John, almost twirling him around in his wake.

There was not going to be any easing into it, Virgil had made that very clear. There just wasn't the time for that. John needed to get better at this and to do it quickly. He knew the younger had it in him and that he was not half as clumsy as he believed himself to be, he just needed to find a way to focus.

"It's like math," Virgil tried again, a little more relaxed this time as he sensed John was getting frustrated.

"Virgil, in what universe is ice skating ever like math?"

"Let me re-phrase that. Ice-skating, is like skiing, you know, _technically_ – the way you stop, move your feet blah blah blah, and I _know_ you can ski. So just do that."

"'Just do that' he says. You make it sound so simple."

"It is simple, you're just over thinking it because you're scared of falling. But the ice can't hurt you, not tonight, see," Virgil poked at all the padding he had swaddled onto his little brother until the younger fell butt-first onto the ice. Credit to Virgil though, it didn't hurt.

"But I won't have all this on me tomorrow."

"No, you won't, but it won't matter, because you're just going skiing, like I said, which you already know how to do, right?"

"Virgil, I don't get – "

"Visualise, John. Don't think, just move your feet."

Virgil pulled his brother up and John did just that, gliding along on the skates just as he would a pair of skis on the flat snow, exactly like they had when their mother had taught them. At some point, John didn't know when, Virgil had let go of his arm, but John had kept going. Round the rink he went, getting faster and faster, strides closer and more graceful with each move. Forget the stupid padding! He wanted it gone, out of his way!

"Whoop! Yeah Johnny, you got this!" Came the shouts from the side-line, where Virgil was now leaning happily against an old fencepost which held back his three other brothers, all puffy coats and woolly hats, cheering away at his progress and boosting his confidence tenfold. He could do this. He really could. If only Virgil wasn't now adding cones to his path. Remembering his snow-plough, he screeched to a sudden stop.

"Lesson two." Virgil stated.

"Already?"

"No time to waste, little brother." He stared at John, knowing he was moving things along ridiculously fast, but there was also zero doubt in his mind that John could hack it. And boy, did he need to.

"Lesson two." John repeated, determined.

"Okay then," Virgil grinned, "skating is like Math."

Great, this again.

"Virgil, we already went past that one. Skating isn't like Math, it's like skiing, and that's working for me so let's stick with that."

"No, technical skating is like skiing. Plotting your next move and working the crowds – that's like Math. It's all one big equation. Work out what the people are doing, where they're going, where you need them to be, and find the way through. People are predictable, mostly, you just have to spot the patterns. Just like you do in class, it's no different."

"You said 'mostly'."

"Well, yeah, the ice can make things a bit difficult. Every now and then something will go wrong and someone will fall on their face – _not you_ – and you have to watch out for that. Those are your variables. As long as you watch the crowd, see them coming and factor them in, you're winning. It's all just one big equation needing solving."

"So the cones are – ?"

"In real life, people. In your head, whatever you need them to be. Numbers, building blocks, data – whatever your brain needs to process them, just work it out. Right?" Virgil asked, sincerely, hoping he was not barking up completely the wrong tree with this one.

"Right." John replied, determined.

The others cheered. The lessons continued. John, no matter how much hard work it would take, would learn how to skate.


	7. Chapter 6

It was Christmas Eve. It should have been easy; one final morning of work, an afternoon of shopping with all of their hard-earned cash and then off home to enjoy Christmas with their Father and Grandmother. Yes, it _should _have been easy.

The last week and a half had been fun for them all. While Virgil and Scott were still going out of their way to hide what they were doing from each other, for no good reason whatsoever, they were both enjoying the fact that they no longer had to hide things from their other brothers. It had made work more fun and taken the pressure off of everything. Jeff had even given in and told Grandma what they were all up to, not being able to handle any more of her fretting and scrutinising looks.

Virgil had been alternating his nights between John and Gordon. Odds were skating lessons, evens were 'getting to know you' sessions with Bessie the reindeer ahead of her expected reappearance today at the mall's annual Christmas Eve 'Spectacular', an event held out in the parking lot where families could enjoy a morning of fun with Santa while skating on the ice-rink and seeing what the stores had to showcase. Both the skating and the Bessie sessions were going exceptionally well. Virgil was now able to actually stand next to Bessie for a good amount of time with nothing more that the odd angry snort aimed in his direction. Gordon had done a good job in researching the best techniques to work with the animals and bringing them into his job.

Meanwhile, John's skating skills had somehow surpassed all of the others' combined. He was now zipping around the rink like he had been born in a pair of skates, ducking and diving with the grace of a seasoned dancer all while corralling and organising the crowds to wherever he needed them to be. The people he worked with could barely believe the change, let alone John himself, but he loved it.

After his training camp had come to an end, Gordon had joined Alan in spending his mornings at the mall, allowing the youngest Tracy to leave the confines of the Café and up his client list on the personal shopping business. By the time today had come around and with all the brothers helping out where they could, they had probably delivered the shopping for over half the population of their town, they were so busy. Word of this website and the good it was doing in helping people who couldn't get out for themselves had spread fast and the tips were flowing in to match.

Then there was Scott. It had taken the whole three weeks - a long and hard process with many, many bruises and practices - but Helena had persevered with her training of him and by God, the boy had finally mastered the dancing. For the first time, just this morning, Scott Tracy had made it through an entire cheer routing without stepping one single foot out of line. So happy was he, that he no longer cared about their upcoming showcase performance at the Spectacular, which was due to start any minute now. He was proud of his achievement and happy to show it off, even in his little sparkly blue uniform and to a crowd which was expected to be a good thirty times bigger than any he had 'performed' in front of previously. Also, the hug Helena had given him as they had finished their practice was a very welcome addition and something he hoped to replicate again at the earliest opportunity.

Right now, as Scott and Helena were waiting on the side-lines of the marked-out performance area for their turn to be called, straight after the local children's choir, what they weren't aware of was the two new faces that had just joined the crowd.

"Are you sure the boys won't mind us being here, Jeff? I'd hate for Scott to get nervous if he knew we were watching," Grandma asked.

"He'll be fine Mom. He doesn't know Virgil is out here either so if anything, it will be spotting him that throws Scott off, not us."

"And I assume Virgil doesn't know that Scott is going to be out here, either?"

"I'd guess not. I don't think Virgil is too happy at being outside amongst all these crowds in that outfit as it is. You know he hadn't even realised the Spectacular had been moved outside this year until Gordon dropped the bombshell this morning."

"Oh dear," Grandma tutted.

"Hhm. Speaking of Deer," Jeff nodded over to where a very large livestock container had just pulled up. "This doesn't look good."

"I thought Coach Ashford was loaning Bessie for this event? Gordon and Virgil have been working so hard with her all week to make sure we don't have a repeat of last week's 'incident'."

"That was the plan as I understood it. Come on, we have a couple of minutes until Scott's up, let's go check it out."

Steering his mother through the hoards of people, Jeff and Grandma soon reached the area where the truck had pulled up, only to find a very angry Coach Ashford and Mr Rafferty arguing with some management type in an ill-fitting suit. Behind them, a team of mall staff were helping unload a heard of exactly nine, gigantic reindeer, none of whom looked pleased to be there. As the reindeer were strung together and harnessed on to the front of the Mall's fake sleigh, Bessie and Gordon were not-so-delicately shoved aside.

"Gordon, everything okay?" Jeff asked, dropping an arm protectively onto his boy's shoulder.

"Mall are saying that because of what happened with Virge that we're not allowed to have Bessie here anymore. I told them that she's fine now and that it was all just a misunderstanding before but they don't believe me. They're saying we have to take her away and that they've hired in some other reindeer for the Grotto to use, even though the Coach has been doing this gig, like, _forever_."

It was true. Jeff had seen Virgil out here with Bessie not five minutes ago before his boy had disappeared off inside to help ready the presents for the children and everything had been fine. It was a sight he had never expected to see with his second eldest given his…history.

Behind them, the argument between the Coach, Rafferty and the mall management team was heating up and beginning to draw attention.

"Gordon, why don't you run and secure Bessie in her trailer for a little while so she's safe out of the way. I'll see if there's anything I can do."

But there wasn't. No amount of bartering would persuade the management team to risk using a reindeer that had a track record for violence, especially when they had a team of nine brand new ones all strung up and ready to go. No matter how rough-looking and untamed they appeared to be, pulling against their reins and reluctant to listen to their handlers.

"They'll hurt the reindeer if they keep treating them like that," Gordon commented angrily as he returned to the scene.

"I know Son," the Coach said, "but there's nothing we can do about it this time. Looks like it's the end of the line for me and old Bessie."

Nothing they could do about it? They obviously didn't know Gordon Tracy very well. As another of the handlers slapped an angry hand down on one of the disobedient reindeer, Gordon decided enough was enough. Jumping up onto the sleigh, he proceeded to stand right on the front of it, blocking Santa's view entirely and stopping them from going anywhere anytime soon. Behind Gordon, Santa looked towards Mr Rafferty for direction.

"I'm not moving until they unhook those reindeer. They've not been prepared for this. They're dangerous and they shouldn't be here," Gordon proclaimed.

"He's right!" the Coach called up in support. "You tell 'em, boy."

Over on the far side of the parking lot, music began blaring out as Scott and Helena were announced into the performance zone and Thompson's Sporting Goods began their Showcase.

"Jeff, the show's starting," Grandma called.

Jeff had no idea what to do by this point. Should he be proud of his boy for taking a stand or worried at the precariousness of his current situation? What he had failed to realise was that Gordon wasn't the son he should have been concerned about at this point in time at all. No, because off in the distance and making his way back out into the parking lot along with Mel, his co-Elf, was the number one most hated man in the big-animal kingdom: Virgil Tracy.

"Oh heck." Jeff declared as he watched his son suddenly freeze, spotting the animals from where he stood. Next to Jeff, he sensed the feeling was mutual as every single one of those nine raring reindeer began to stiffen and rise up to their full-height, ready for a showdown.

As Virgil slowly crouched to the ground, depositing the gifts he had been carrying into a safe space, he then began to – as delicately as possible without spooking the creatures any further – encourage Mel to begin stepping away from him. He knew she must have foreseen the danger too, as she didn't even bother to put up a fight like she normally would have, instead listening carefully to Virgil's every instruction and getting herself well out of his way. Coming back up to a stand, there was a brief moment where both sides took stock of their chances, as had happened previously with Bessie and all those that had sadly come before her. Then it was on.

"Virgil, run!" Both Jeff and Gordon called out, but by this point it was too late and both reindeer and sleigh were already hurtling across the carpark toward the vulnerable Tracy, Gordon flying back from the force of their ignition and landing sprawled in Santa's lap as they were both dragged along for the ride.

"Oh Sh - !" Virgil began, but didn't get a chance to finish the thought as the pack of raging animals came charging towards him.

He tried to look for a safe escape route, he really did, but there was just nowhere to go. There were people literally everywhere. He couldn't even see a way back into the building. To stand and face the pack would mean absolute and certain death by trampling. Not good. He would maybe save a few people in the process, if he was lucky, but given the speed the animals were coming there was no way they would be able to stop at just him and he was currently stood in front of a very, very big crowd. There was only one thing for it and Virgil did exactly what his Father and Brother had said: he ran.

Looking for the clearest route, Virgil took off in a sprint or as close to a sprint he could manage in those ridiculous Elf shoes. He leapt tables, dodged stalls and screamed out to people left and right to get out of the way but it was no good. Every way that Virgil went, the reindeer followed. Gordon did his best from the sleigh to grab the reins and help steer but the beasts were just too strong and he and Santa were thrown around on the ride of their lives. Dragged all the way around the back of the main crowds and behind the performance zone, all involved suddenly realised there was nowhere else to go but across into the marked-out staging area and hope the spectators on the other side had time to clear them a path before anyone got hurt.

Around them, the Spectacular was in utter chaos as Mall staff did their best to evacuate the wider area. John had heard the call over the radio and was desperately trying to help clear the ice rink. He didn't know what the issue was, only that they needed to get everyone inside, and fast. So that's just what he did. Jeff, Grandma, the Coach and Mr Rafferty watched from afar as the mayhem unfolded. The performers and spectators at the centre carried on, oblivious under the sounds of the music system until Virgil's cry for them to GET OUT OF THE WAY finally made it through. The crowd screamed but made a hole. Scott and Helena spun mid-routine just in time for Virgil the Elf to come flying through the centre of them, both Scott and Virgil's eyes going wide with the shock at seeing each other. Virgil didn't have time to stop though. On he went, as fast as he possible could. He didn't need to look back to know that the animals were gaining on him. Luckily for Scott, he managed to recover and pull himself together in just enough time to grab Helena and throw them both to the side to safety as nine charging reindeer, Gordon, Santa and their runaway sleigh came barrelling through at top speed and waiting for no-one. Picking themselves up, Scott grabbed Helena by the hand and ushered her towards him. "Come on," he called as they left the bewildered crowd and took off in pursuit of the sleigh.

John was the last to see it coming. He and his team – yes, they were all working under his instruction now, despite his young age – had cleared the ice. There should have been nothing more to do except to clear themselves also, but the second John saw exactly what the problem was, he knew what he had to do. Surveying the remaining people around the parking lot, he found his pattern and mapped out the moves; the best way through. Then he called out to Virgil. As loud and hard as his voice could carry, he screeched down the ice rink's PA system, calling his brother to him and hopefully to safety.

It was like a beacon from the heavens, his little brother's voice. Just as Virgil was running out of steam, losing the fight and the will to keep going, there it was: John's calming tones. He knew where he had to go now. John had by this point coordinated the rest of his team out into the parking lot to clear them a way through. Virgil saw it. He also saw John, out waiting for him on the ice. With one last burst of energy of the sort that could only come from a brother, or four, spurring you on; he ran.

Leaping the barrier at the last second, Virgil crashed straight into the arms of his waiting brother, who manoeuvred them both as carefully as he could at breakneck speed down onto the ice where they eventually slid to a stop in the centre. Thankfully taking so many falls in the early days had taught John how to do it right. On the other side of the barriers, the reindeer came to a screeching halt, unable to jump due to their tight harnesses and with no further place to go as their prize was now out of reach. As they veered off to the side in the final slow to a full stop, Santa's sleigh followed suit, whipping around and crashing into the side of the rink where Gordon and Santa also leapt their way to safety. Behind that, two Cheerleaders joined them, Scott pausing only briefly to expertly propel his female 'flyer' companion up onto his hands where she could safely dismount herself on the other side, ice be damned. She had made Scott put up with a whole lot for her in these last few weeks, so she would absolutely stick by him now. It was a slipping, sliding mop of blonde that hurtled out of the café and straight across the ice to became the final member of the tiny and exhausted group, little Alan having watched the whole thing unfold from where John had shunted him to safety and determined to make sure he still had all four brothers at the end of it.

As a smiling Virgil starfished himself out on the ice to catch his breath and Scott did his rounds checking on the others, it wasn't Jeff and Grandma that made it to them first. No, it was the Manager of the Mall himself. Oblivious to his duties of checking on the welfare of his staff and with limited knowledge of what had actually transpired other than the gawping crowds and trail of destruction that led right to the little Tracy pile, his one and only thought was to make sure someone took the blame and it sure wasn't going to be him. With a roaring "YOU'RE ALL FIRED!" which was followed just a few minutes later by a lifetime ban for a one 'Mr Virgil Tracy', the man was gone, off to work damage control before the press arrived. The boys just took one look at each other and laughed. No-one had gotten hurt, everyone was alive and they were all back together as one at last, no more secrets. Life was good, and that was how Jeff and Grandma found them all: one big Tracy hug, plus Helena the Cheerleader…and Santa.


	8. Chapter 7

A couple hours later in the sanctuary of the local diner and sat directly below a big-screen TV which seemed intent on replaying a multitude of mobile-phone-filmed coverage of the morning's disaster, Grandma, Jeff and the boys all sat. A giant plate of nachos filled the centre of the table, surrounded by seven large milkshakes. The boys chatted away happily amongst themselves, commenting as the footage on the TV depicted every detail of what had happened from Bessie's eviction and Gordon's heroic stand-up for animal (and farmer's) rights, to Scott's mainstage performance to John's expert clearance of a previously overcrowded ice rink. For Jeff and Grandma, it was a sight to behold. How his little pack could cause so much destruction in the space of only a couple minutes was mind blowing, but there it was in full-colour for all the world to see. Lord only knew the heights they could scale if they ever banded together in something planned and productive, if this was the impact they had by pure accident. He smiled to himself at that thought. In actual fact, he couldn't wait to see it.

As the excitement eventually began to die down, the conversation turned to something much more sobering.

"So Coach Ashford lost his contract with the Mall, because of me?" Virgil asked.

"No, not because of you, son. Because establishments like that just can't afford to take the risk. I know we all joke about it just being you that these things happen to, but before Gordon took the time to work with her, Bessie could have easily decided to attack any member of the public or to run wild, just like those others did."

"Dad, she wouldn't," Gordon interjected, but was cut off by his Father.

"Maybe not Gordon, but you can't possibly say for sure. All you can do is work with her, just like you have done, to minimise the risk."

"Fat lot of good it did, the Coach still lost the work."

"And we all got fired."

"And Virge got banned for life."

"And the Spectacular got ruined, so none of the kids got to enjoy the fun or see Santa."

"And the Mall is shut for the rest of the day, so after all that saving, we didn't even get to buy our presents."

"That's not quite true," Virgil spoke up, "I went and picked up Ellie's necklace on Wednesday to give it to her early."

"And?"

"And she put it on, made some comment about how she made it look good, then dumped me for not spending any time with her for the last three weeks and for being an Elf."

"But you were only doing it for her!" Scott cried out in his brother's defence.

"Well, not quite, I was doing it for you guys too, but I guess that plan went out the window. Think I'm better off anyway. All she cared about was how she looked and what other people thought. If there's one thing I've learned over the last three weeks, it's that all that stuff doesn't even matter." Elf Virgil smiled over at Scott, still in full Cheerleader uniform, matching hair glitter and face gems to boot.

"I second that. Let's never keep secrets like that again Virge. Man, that took so much effort, and for what?"

"Finally!" Grandma declared. "All that sneaking around and bravado – foolishness, the lot of it and no good for my health. I for one am just glad all you boys are back on the same side and talking to each other again."

"But what about the presents? It's Christmas tomorrow and we haven't got each other anything?" Gordon asked.

"Boys, Christmas is not all about the presents. This is what I was trying to teach you all along," Jeff explained, "somewhere along the way, after your mother passed…us Tracy's lost our way. We lost sight of what was important. I want you to look back over the last three week's and tell me what you've enjoyed the most."

"I liked spending time with you again Dad," Scott took the lead and began, seeing that the others needed that push to step forwards, "all that time we all thought we were being so clever, hiding things. But you knew everything. You were just so calm and in control and you taught me how to be like that too. I'll really need that, next year, when I'm off at the academy. Then there was hanging out with Gords. It made me remember my time with Gramps, doing the same when I was Gordon's age. Plus, it was nice to pass that knowledge on; to know that Gramp's teachings are still going."

"That was fun for me too," Gordon replied. "I really like all that animal stuff now, it's interesting. I don't normally get to make a difference like that, but Bessie really listened to me."

"Yeah, thankfully for me! I finally got to stand next to something bigger than a cat without it wanting to tear me to pieces! I really enjoyed our sessions too, Gords." Virgil said. "Also, I know I was a bit of a misery to begin with about the whole Elf thing, but I really did like working with the kids, you know, making the magic real, seeing the smiles. That was nice. Despite the silly outfit."

"It really isn't all that bad," Grandma offered.

"Don't be so sure Grandma, you didn't see the first one!"

A flying nacho made its way from Virgil to a grinning Gordon's head.

"What about you, John?" Jeff asked before things could get too off-topic.

"Finally learning to skate after all these years. It will be fun to come out with you guys on the pond now, not just stay inside and watch or miss out completely like I used to. Thanks Virgil. The lessons were great. Plus, Coach Ashford saw the footage of me evacuating the rink and offered me a spot on the hockey team next season."

"One of the cool kids now, hey Johnny? No more Math camp for you, huh?" Scott teased.

"There's always time for Math, Scott. In fact, I hear that skating and Math go hand in hand." John smiled at Virgil, who winked.

"And what about you, Alan?" Grandma asked, noting that the youngest Tracy had been unusually quiet so far.

Looking around at the happiness on his family's faces, all the boy could do was smile. "I just liked us all hanging out and working together. Usually you guys are all off doing your own things and I get shunted away." The others looked down at the table, dismayed and knowing there was a truth in that, something which from this point onwards would certainly change. "It was fun having everyone together again."

The boys, Dad and Grandma all smiled at each other, knowingly, before sharing a few one-armed hugs and affectionate nudges.

"Plus, there's this," Alan declared as he then preceded to slap the biggest roll of cash the boys had ever seen in real-life down on the table in front of him, leaving the others speechless.

"Alan," Jeff began, filling the stunned silence that surrounded him. "Where did you get all that money, son?"

"From the website. _My_ website. John helped me build it."

"YOUR website?!" The boys all chorused at once. "You mean, the one we've been delivering orders for these last two weeks? You came up with that?" Virgil asked.

"Yeah, I got the idea that first day when I was stuck at Jarod's, helping his Nan with her online shopping. Then John helped me build it and I worked out the orders while he was skating."

"Hold up," Gordon was not happy about this, "you mean that whole time we were running around shopping and delivering to people's houses, we were actually working _for YOU?!_"

"Yeah, it was real fun, getting to be you guy's Boss," Alan beamed.

The boys had no more words. Grandma, however, did.

"Unbelievable! Jefferson, your boy's an extortionist!"

"No, mother, he's a businessman. And a damned good one from the looks of all that cash." Jeff smiled at Alan as the boy grinned back in delight. The others laughed.

"But Ally, how did you get _all that?_ I thought we were working for tips?"

"We were, mostly. But I also added a booking fee to the website, plus a couple other optional extras people could choose."

"Genius."

"I'll say."

"But what do I do with it now? The Mall is shut so I can't but anything."

"Well," Scott began, "assuming we're all happy not doing actual physical presents this year - or ever again for that matter - which after the last few minutes conversation I'm pretty sure we all are, then I might have an idea. It will need everyone willing to contribute though, and it will probably take a whole lot of hard work…"

But that was all it took. The trust was back and with their new-found Christmas spirit full to the brim, the boys had no issues whatsoever in pooling their earnings and jumping on board to follow their big brother in executing his next plan and the very next day, _Christmas Day_, the first ever Ashford farm Winter family festival was born. Bessie the reindeer met all the local children, supported by her favourite helper Gordon. Santa arrived in his newly-refurbished sleigh and helped by his two best Elves, one of whom was much too tall to be an Elf but loved the job so much he did it anyway, face paint and all. He was even rather starting to like that garish shade of Elf green. Ashford's pond became the coolest new ice-rink around, marshalled by a team recently poached from the local mall and headed up by the best new skater around. Two rogue cheerleaders took selfies with anyone who wanted them, because apparently there were many, #ScottieTheCheerleadingHottie trending once again. At a suggested donation of $1 a go, the proceeds were all later donated to the local nursing home, expertly delivered by the youngest (and also most successful and popular amongst the residents) new entrepreneur in town. It was the most family fun Christmas the Tracy's had had in years, along with a multitude of other families to boot, many of whom needed it just as much as they did. It was also the start of many, many more yet to come.


	9. Epilogue

Ten years later on a little tropical Island far out in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, another family-fun Tracy Christmas is coming to a close.

Alan looks over the portraits of his brothers, one by one. They are his role models; his best friends. He is both the luckiest person in the world and the most privileged that he gets to work alongside them, doing what they do, bringing help to those who aren't always able to help themselves. Sometimes he jokes that he misses the time, albeit brief, when his brothers all worked for him, but in reality – he wouldn't have things any other way.

Gordon is over on the far side of the island, lovingly tending to the rockpool ecosystem he has been nurturing ever since their arrival, just as he does every other day, Christmas or not. He cares for his little habitat in the same loving and caring way he deals with every situation he comes across, because it matters, he matters and helping in any way you can, no matter how small or how hard the work; matters.

Virgil is back in his room looking over reports. There had still been a few rescues amongst all the usual Tracy Christmas fun. There always is. But it is the smiles of the children Virgil remembers as he thinks back over the events of the day; the ones who were scared for a moment that they might lose everything but then somehow got their Christmas miracle after all. Sometimes down to him and his big, green bird. He loves that he is able to give them that. Above him, on the wall, hangs a tinsel framed letter that he takes out with the decorations every year. A fond reminder of a time gone by: his official, written banning from the Kansas City Mall.

Scott smiles fondly as he thinks back on the day and runs a hand over the polished wooden surface of his father's old desk. It is mostly his now, but it is also the place he feels most connected to the man who taught him everything he could possibly ever need to know. He is still in uniform, recently returned from a rescue himself, and into the desk draw he places the special sash he uses only on this one day every year; the one that he uses to remind himself what is truly important at the heart of it all: his family. The blue one with the little sparkly rhinestones on it.

John has returned to Thunderbird Five and glides gracefully around the holoprojections and equipment, spotting patterns and working the room like a pro, ensuring the world – his brothers included - is all sleeping peacefully, tucked in and safe.

Grandma is asleep in her bed in a haze of love and eggnog, content to be with her boys and that in ten years, not one of them has changed other than to grow more and more into the beautiful, strong, loving team she has always known them to be.

Jeff watches over them all collectively, the proudest Father in the world, the solar system, the universe, and all the space beyond...

And their mother, well, even though they may have lost their way without her for a short while. They all found their way back in the end and she will always be there, at the centre of it all, firmly in their hearts.

What matters most is family.

And occasionally, for some, not getting trampled by a heard of runaway reindeer.

Merry Christmas Everyone.


End file.
